Masquerade
by WritingFromTheSoul
Summary: It was a masquerade ball. No one is supposed to know who you are. But she must know who he is. AU Tiva. May become a multi-chap fic but it will start as a oneshot.
1. The Dance

Ziva pushes open the large doors. She cannot believe she is invited to the Sciuto's Manor for the ball this evening. But she was. She smoothes out the wrinkles in her black dress and draws her mask band behind her head, making sure not to ruffle her curls. She is warrior, and would much like to join the army. But she enjoys fine things like this, too.

As she pushes open the doors, she sees the many couples, yet all are wearing masks. They are acquainting with pure strangers, but they don't care. This is how they make friends, meet people.

Ziva steps inside, and is immediately greeted by none other than Ms. Sciuto herself.

"Ziva!" she cries, greeting Ziva by her first name. Ziva smiles. Abby is wearing a black dress with a black, veiled shawl. She has a black and diamond-edged mask on, and her hair is up in a tight black bun. Classy, yet courageous. Just like its wearer. "So glad you were able to come!"

"Thank you, Ms. Sciuto." Ziva inclines her head. Abby waves her hand.

"No need to call me that! Just call me Abby!"

"Okay, Abby." Ziva chuckles.

"This way!" Abby takes her hand and pushes through the frontal crowd, to another pair of wood doors. She twists the handle.

The whole room is filled with people dancing and laughing. An orchestra in the back plays a classical tune, and the masked people dance and the couples twirl and spin.

"Go!" Abby cries, lightly shoving Ziva in. "Have a great time, Ms. David." Abby winks, bows, and closes the mahogany doors behind her.

Ziva makes her way to the middle of the floor, just as a piano solo starts. She looks around, but sees no one alone. So she stands in the middle of the wooden floor, looking around blankly.

Suddenly, her hand is seized by another.

She looks up. She is staring at a black mask, but, under the mask, two green eyes shine like polished emeralds.

"You looked like you were dancing by yourself." He says quietly.

"I was."

"Well, may I have this dance?" He asks. She nods and smiles. He takes her hand and bows, and leads her out to the floor.

_Let's paint the picture  
Of the perfect place  
They got it better than what everyone told ya_

He takes her hand, and guides her across the floor. Ziva wonders who is behind the black mask, but she says nothing. Instead, she lets him guide her with the skill and ease of nothing human.

_They'll be the king of hearts  
And you're the queen of spades  
And we'll fight for you like we were your soldiers_

"You are quite a dancer." She notes as he spins her and dips her. Her long curls bounce and fall past her shoulders. She chuckles. "And, still, I don't even know your name."

_I know we got it good  
But they got it made  
And the grass is getting greener each day_

"Well, it _is _a masquerade ball, after all." The masked man smiles at her. She smiles back.

_I know things are looking up  
But soon they'll take us down  
Before anyone is knowing our name_

He spins her around, and catches her by her waist. Ziva's ends of her dress flare around, but keeps it shape around her.

_They got, they got  
All the right friends in all the right places  
So yeah, we're going down_

They twist and turn, their bodies moving in time with each other.

"Now, how was such a beautiful lady like you dancing alone?" The masked man murmurs.

"Because I have two left toes."

The man chuckles. "I'm pretty sure it's 'feet', my masked mistress. And, anyway, you were a lot better than my previous partner."

Ziva raises an eyebrow behind her mask. "And who may that be?"

The green eyes glance over at the other side of room, where a woman in white swirls with her partner. She, however, seems sullen.

_All the right moves in all the right faces  
So yeah, we're going down_

"Now _that _is a lady I wish I did not find the identity of. That is Jeanne Benoit. Her father is the rich merchant outside town. My father told me to make nice with her, but it's hard to make nice with a cold rock."

_Said everybody knows, everybody knows where we're going  
Yeah, we're going down_

Ziva laughs at this.

"You are a joker, no?" She asks him. He smiles.

"I don't like to think of myself as a joker as much a mood-lightener. This event is supposed to be so elegant and serious. I choose otherwise."

_Do you think I'm special?  
Do you think I'm nice?  
Am I bright enough to shine in your spaces?_

Ziva loses herself, simply watching the masked man before her, now sincerely wondering who he was.

_Between the noise you hear  
And the sounds you like  
Are we just sinking in an ocean of faces_

"I'm so sorry, sir, but I must know." Ziva says. Her hand just inches the tiniest bit down the man's back. "Who are you?"

He smiles at her. "Why can't my identity remain a secret?"

"You are one of the most unique men I have ever met. I must know who you are." Ziva says, cocking her head slightly.

_It can't be possible  
That rain can fall  
Only when it's over our heads _

_The sun is shining every day_

His hand rests on the curve in her waist. "Hmmm." The masked man thinks about this. "I will think about it." He decides.

_But it's far away  
Over a world that's dead_

Ziva inches forward. Her body is now dangerously close the stranger.

"Still thinking?" She purrs in his ear. Her warm breath tickles him, and he smiles.

_They got, they got_

"Patience." He murmurs in hers. She giggles uncharacteristically.

_All the right friends in all the right places  
So, yeah, we're going down_

_All the right moves in all the right faces  
So, yeah, we're going down_

His green eyes now lock with her chocolate brown ones, and, suddenly, Ziva feels something. This masked stranger is much different than the others. There is something different.

There must be, for her to feel this way with him.

_Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're going  
(Yeah, we're going down)_

The piano goes into a smooth solo, the notes swirling around them in a pleasant cocoon.

_It don't matter what you see  
I know I could never be  
Someone that'll look like you…._

Ziva now fully presses up against the man, closing the gap between them. He chuckles.

"Do you _want _us to be kicked out?" He asks quietly.

_It don't matter what you say  
I know I could never fake  
Someone that could sound like you_

"You are the most unique man I have ever met." Ziva says softly.

_All the right friends in all the right places  
So yeah, we're going down_

_All the right moves in all the right faces  
So yeah, we're going down!_

"And you are definitely an extremely unique lady yourself." He says quietly, pulling her closer.

_All the right friends in all the right places  
So yeah, we're going down_

_All the right moves in all the right faces  
So yeah, we're going down!_

The song ends. Ziva stares at her masked partner.

"Please. I must know who you are."

Instead, he takes her by the hand.

"Come."

He pushes through the crowd, to a pair of white doors. He opens them to a balcony, white with white bars. It looks over a beautiful garden, illuminated by moonlight.

"Beautiful, isn't it? Ms. Sciuto showed it to me earlier."

"Balcony?" Ziva says, running her hand along the rail. "Classy much?"

He smiled. "Romeo knew what he was doing."

"Juliet." Ziva corrects him. "It was Juliet who called out to him on the balcony."

She sits on the balcony, crossing her legs. She stares up at the stars.

He sits next to her, swinging his legs over the side. Ziva shivers slightly.

"It's a cold night." She says in explanation to the masked man's concerned look.

He puts his arm around her. "Better?"

"Yeah."

She turns to him. "Please, stranger. I will not leave not knowing your name."

She looks at him, and, once again, the emeralds meet her brown eyes.

Suddenly, he leans in, and Ziva leans in. Their lips meet. His lips are so soft, and tasted sweet. She slowly closes her eyes, and lets herself teeter on the edge of bliss, not quite falling in.

They break apart.

"Ziva." She says, almost breathlessly.

"Tony."

* * *

**Well? What you thinking?**

**Please, please review?**

**May be just a oneshot, or may turn into a multi chapter.**

**Depends on my crazed mood swings, LOL.**

**Please, please review, guys! If I get enough reviews, I just may continue this…**

**-Vi**


	2. The Visit

Ziva sits on her bed, next to the window. She exhales slowly, her breath fogging the glass. She smiles and writes the initials Z.D into the fog as it fades.

She can't stop thinking about him. Her masked stranger. Her Tony.

She had just met him, but she knew: This was no ordinary man. He was…something else entirely...

"Ziva!"

Ziva straightened. "Yes, father?"

"Come down here. Someone is here for you."

Ziva suddenly perks.

_I wonder…._

She runs downstairs, holding her dress, almost tripping.

"I'm here T-" She cuts herself off.

"Ziva, this is Ray." He said. A man with black hair and almost same-color eyes winks at her.

"Ziva." He says.

"What is he doing here?" Ziva asks point-blankly.

"Ziva….you are going to marry him." Eli says slowly.

It feels like a rug has been yanked out from under Ziva's feet.

_Marriage? MARRIAGE?_

_No no no! I can't get MARRIED!_

Automatically, her mind flashes to her masked stranger.

_I can't get married._

_I can't._

Unable to say anything, Ziva runs up the stairs. She runs right past her sister, who looks after Ziva with a concerned look.

"Zivaleh? Are you all right?" She questions, her identical brown eyes widening in concern.

Ziva runs to her room, and quickly shuts the door behind her. She falls on her bed, feeling helpless. She should have seen this coming. Ziva is a teenage girl, almost a lady, in the early 1800's. What the hell is she thinking?

She knew it would come, whether she wanted it to or not.

She slips into her nightgown, even thought the afternoon sun is still high in the sky.

"Ziva? Ziva, can we talk?" Her father's voice, seeming concerned, is heard from the other side of the door.

"What's there to talk about?" She asks coolly. "I'm getting married. I have no opinion, do I?"

"Ziva, you make it sound like-"

"Like it is. I state the plain truth." She says quietly. "Please, father, leave me alone."

"Ziva-"

"_Leave me alone." _She says pointedly. "Just go away."

Silence. Then, footsteps are heard, fading away with each thud. Suddenly, in their place, lighter footsteps are heard.

"Ziva? Ziva, it's me." A softer voice says. "Please, Ziva."

Ziva looks up, and walks to the door, leaning her head against it, before she turns the handle to let her sister in.

Tali comes in. She's only thirteen, but the genuine concern on her face was beyond her years.

"Ziva, what's wrong?" She asks, sitting next to Ziva on the bed.

"Nothing, Tali." She replies.

"I heard you say marriage. Ziva, is Aba making you marry someone?"

Ziva nods emotionlessly.

"Do you not want to marry him?"

Ziva shakes her head.

"Ziva, do you love someone else?"

"I-I don't know." Ziva says shakily. Tali puts her arms around her sister. "Zivaleh, you know I will support you, whatever." Tali sits up and kisses her sister's forehead.

"Tali!" Eli calls Ziva's sister. Tali looks at her.

"Be wise with your choices, Ziva. Please." Her sister leaves the room, leaving Ziva alone, who leans back, and falls asleep, right there.

* * *

_CLACK…CLACK._

Ziva blinks groggily. It is nighttime, well late into the evening.

_CLACK._

She gives a start, sitting up. She looks around. She hears another clack as a dark, small thing hits her balcony door. She slowly makes her way to the small balcony, confused. She opens her door, and looks over the edge. Down under the balcony is a man in a white, flowing shirt on a horse, holding a lantern, with ruffled brown hair and the greenest eyes, like the seas after the perfect storm-

"Tony!" She cries out. She suddenly covers her mouth, blushing.

"Ziva." He smiles. "Come down!"

She looks around. "But- I- I can't." She said.

"Are you sure?" He asks, sounding slightly anxious. "No- no exits or-or something?"

Finally, she sighs. "Fine. Watch out."

He steps aside. She leans over, swings over the side of the balcony, drops down and seizes the ledge, then gracefully swings down. Her feet hit the ground without a sound.

"Whoa, my ninja." Tony murmurs. The horse steps back slightly.

"Ninja?"

"Japanese term. It is a Japanese military mercenary. They are able-bodied and extremely agile. And _that-" _he gestures to the balcony and the wall "-was _very _ninja."

"Your ninja, hmm?" Ziva asks, walking alongside the horse, which she can now see is a solid roan. She runs over to the side of the house, to the field behind their home, opens a gate door, and leads an almost completely black horse out of the darkness. She jumps on it bareback.

"I belong to no one." She says, spurring the horse and galloping out of the gate.

Tony chuckles. "I like that. Playing hard-to-get is much more my style." He spurs his own and chases her down. She laughs, galloping ahead of him. He grins widely.

"You think you're going to win this race. Well, I beg to differ." Tony leans forward, and his horse plows ahead, coming right beside Ziva's midnight horse.

Ziva laughs again. She looks forward. "Are we supposed to be going somewhere?"

"Yes, actually." He says. "While we're out here, keep going until you see a white gate. Stop there and wait for me."

Ziva nods, and urges her horse again, her sharpened-eyes scanning the countryside for what Tony was talking about. After about five minutes, her eyes found it- a faded white gate, roses intertwined around the arch. She halts her horse, and jumps off. She ties her horse, and holds her forehead against the horse's. "Be good, Midnight." She says quietly. The horse nickers quietly, and Ziva smiles. She looks and sees Tony's roan horse trotting towards her. Tony jumps off and leads the horse beside Ziva's, also tying it up. "Come on." He says quietly. He takes her hand and runs under the arch. The two run along the dark path, which is lined and inset with stones. He keeps going, and finally Ziva asks "Where are we going, Tony?"

"To my favorite place." He replies vaguely, still running. She keeps up with him, her light feet hitting the stones with quiet light thuds.

Suddenly, Tony screeched to a stop.

"We're here." He said quietly.

She looks around. It is a garden, lit by a few lanterns. Around them are hedges, with roses intertwined into them. Tony picks one, blood red.

"Roses. They have thorns, to protect themselves. Usually, they hurt." He says, showing Ziva his finger, which has a small trickle of blood on the tip. "But they are truly beautiful." He places the rose on Ziva's hand. He took his hand and brushed back her hair.

"Tony." Ziva says. "You are something else entirely. Do you know that?"

"Well, my father did always say I was on the odd side, yes." Tony chuckled. Ziva rolled her eyes.

"I think meeting you was no accident." Ziva said, wandering around the garden.

"Fate does have its ways, I guess." Tony says. Suddenly, Ziva takes him, and presses her lips against his. She holds his head there, running her fingers through his tousled brown hair. It takes him a second before he reciprocated the kiss, licking her lips, begging for entrance. She opens her mouth to let him, letting the sensations wash over her in waves. His hands find the fabric of her nightgown, and he tugs at it. Ziva suddenly stops. She breaks the kiss, panting.

Tony realizes that she broke the kiss, and his eyes widen. "Oh, Ziva, I'm sorry-"

"No, Tony, it's okay." She says. "Just….not yet. Not here. Not now." She turns. The moon has given way to the pink and orange of the rising sun. "I have to go." She says, running out, Tony following her.

* * *

She climbs up the wall, and swings onto her balcony, waving goodbye to Tony. He winks, and spurs his horse. Ziva turns, and immediately comes face-to-face with Tali.

"Tali-" Ziva chokes.

"Do not worry, Zivaleh." She winks. "I can keep a secret."

* * *

**Well? WELL?**

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	3. The Reconciliations and Realizations

Ziva sits back on Midnight, who whinnies and paws the ground anxiously.

"Calm down, you will run soon enough." She coaxes. Ziva wears a loose fitting white tunic and breeches, with brown boots, taken out of her older brother's room, Ari. Ari had gotten married and left with his wife, and left behind a fair amount of his clothes, which Ziva took to wearing while riding (they're much more comfortable than a flouncy dress), unbeknownst to her father. She sighs at this thought, and spurs the horse, who takes off at a gallop through the fields. She isn't like the other ladies, who giggle and sip tea all day. She knows, in her heart, she'll never be like that. She prefers solitude over company of women and men.

_Especially _men.

Ziva feels Midnight slowing down, and hears her labored pants.

"Good girl." Ziva croons, stroking the neck of the horse.

"Well, hello there." A voice says, so close and startling that Ziva has to grip the bridle to keep from falling off the horse, which whinnies almost nervously.

She whips around. "Master Cruz." She greets politely.

"No need for that, Miss David. Just call me Raymond. Or Ray." He smiles, although Ziva can't tell if it's a fake one or a real one. She raises her eyebrow.

"Raymond, then."

"What brings you out the fields, Miss David?" He asks politely, and she realizes he's sitting on a white horse, who's throwing its head back. Midnight backs up an inch.

"Just leading out Midnight. The stable boys told me that her joints get creaky easily, so I need to ride her about as much as possible." Suddenly, she remembers that she's dressed in the men's wear. She blushes.

"I see. Nice wardrobe, I might add." He winks, and Ziva feels more hot, red embarrassment rise to her cheeks.

"Thanks. I prefer it for riding." She says, trying to play it off.

"Ah, I understand, Mrs. David-"

"Ziva." She blurts. She blushes yet again.

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow. "Ziva, then. Nice to see you, Ziva. I hope we can see more of each other." He winks again, then spurs his horse, who turns and gallops away. Midnight relaxes, and whinnies nervously, giving her a stare that clearly read _let's get going before they come back! _

"Agreed, girl." Ziva says aloud, rolling her eyes. "'I hope we can see more of each, Zee-_vah_." She mutters. "Who does he think he is?"

* * *

"When will you _LEARN?!"_

"Father!" Tony sys indignantly. "This is why I didn't want to tell you!"

"Anthony, what happened to courting Jeanne?!"

"For Christ's sake, father, the snow blizzard last year was less cold than that woman!" Tony argues.

"But her _father, _Tony, is a major merchant in town! This was my opportunity to get close to him! To earn some money for this damned family!" Anthony DiNozzo cries, running his hands through his hair.

Tony buries his face in his hands. "Fine. You go court the ice block, then." He mutters.

"Tony…" His father moans. "I need to bring honor back to this family. They…they stripped us of everything we had, Tony. We lost it all. I want it back. We were once a noble family, the proud DiNozzo Family. After the raid that day, years ago, I never was able to fully make it back. People wouldn't hire me, they avoided me at all costs." His father's eyes are wide and desperate. "It was all my fault, Anthony. All my fault."

Tony's harsh look falters, and he feels a lump rise in his throat. He was only a boy then, but he remembers it all. "I'm sorry," He regains his composure, "but I can't fall in love with someone I don't love. I care about this family, too, but we aren't going to restore it this way."

His father sighs. "I understand, son. I'm sorry I got angry with you. It's not your fault."

"It's alright, father, I just…I want to love who I want to love, not who I'm ordered to love."

His father raises an eyebrow. "Is it possible you're already seeing someone?"

Tony blushes a violent red. "What? No! No, I would- no!" Tony cries.

"That sounds like denial."

"I'm not-"

"Denial."

"I'm not even-!"

"Deeeeeeeeeeeeeee-nial!" The older man laughs. His son joins in a little late, not wanting to admit anything he would regret.

* * *

Eli studies his daughter, who sits, toying with a globe in the main hall. He wonders, pondering her sour look, the utter dejectedness that sat around her, in a dark, heavy cloud. She hadn't been the same after that ball a few days ago. She has practically done nothing but sit around. Eli knows that his daughter is nothing quite like the average one, and he also knows it must've been something big to get her this sad. She had practically spat in his face after she had met Ray. Eli isn't one to rule with an iron fist over his girls, but this has gone far enough. He stands up, and touches his daughter's shoulder. She jumps.

"Abba." She regards him with a stoic expression.

"Ziva, I do not appreciate the way you treated me yesterday when I introduced you to Ray. I am your father, and you are to treat me with respect, not turn your back on me." He says sternly.

It's Ziva's turn to break composure. Genuine hurt pools in her wide eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, father." She apologizes, and Eli breaks his composure slightly. He sits next to her, and runs a hand through her hair. Even though Ziva wants to, she doesn't shrug him off. She lets him sit there, running his hands through her long, beautiful brown hair. Unconsciously, he starts braiding it, twisting the delicate strands between his calloused fingers. Ziva smiles to herself, and just lets him.

* * *

Tony sits alone in his room, thinking about what his father has said. His thumbs brush each other, and he bites his tongue between his teeth.

He has to bring honor to his family. Then his father will see his worth.

Maybe even he could be with Ziva.

He closes his eyes, and slowly drifts into a troubled slumber.

_Tony sits, brushing back the speckled mare's mane. She nuzzles the little boy like her own colt._

"_Awww, Speckles, I love you too." Tony said, holding the snout of the horse. He looked out. It's getting dark, and father wouldn't be happy if he was out too late._

_He began to run back to the house. _

_He was greeted with a foreign sight -men gathered around his home, all on horseback. They're all holding torches and pitchforks. Tony feels a hard knot of fear rise in his stomach, but his curiosity was stronger, and it pulled him like a hook towards the house._

"_You owe us money, DiNozzo." One voice growled. The tallest man, wearing a black coat and a low-brimmed hat._

"_All of us, 'ere." Another, more rugged voice._

_Suddenly, his pleading father's voice. He was standing against the doorway, his hair disheveled and his eyes wide with fright._

"_Boys, I promised you, I'll get you the money! I swear!"_

"_On what? The Bible you sold to me mum for a few dollars?" One laughed, and the others joined in._

_The man in the black coat jumped off his horse, who whinnied and bucked slightly._

"_Fine. If we don't get our payment, blood money will do." _

_The man reached to his belt, and pulled out a long, silver dagger, which flashed in the torchlight._

"_Father!" Tony screamed, and he pushed past the horses and men, and stepped in front of his father._

"_Tony-what're-don't-" Anthony Senior stuttered._

"_Ah, is this your boy?" The man in the black coat sneered. "Probably a lying little shit, like your father. Eh, DiNozzo, I'd bet you'd even give us your boy for your debts."_

_Suddenly, Anthony Senior straightened. He put a firm hand on his boy's trembling shoulder, barely noticing because of the tremble in his own hand._

"_Touch my boy, Morrow, and your miserable hide will be hanging on my door." The man growled. "Get behind me, Tony." He added in a hoarse whisper._

_The man in the black coat laughed. _

"_Boys? Burn the place down."_

_Tony turned in slow motion as the men threw their torches. Within seconds, the entire front wall was engulfed in licking, orange flame. He felt something hard connect with the back of his head, and he collapsed. The entire world became hot, blurry, and throbbing. Tony coughed in the smoke, barely able to see. He barely registered his father's firm hands picking him up, and clutching him so tightly that Tony's already troubled breathing became even harder. _

_Finally, when Tony couldn't feel the heat anymore, he felt his father collapse on the grass, cool and wet from dew, soothing to Tony's hot skin. Tony looks up, through barely open eyes, to his home and stable, totally taken by flames. He hears Speckles neighing, panicked, off in the distance. He stands, wanting to get to his beloved mare._

"_Speckles? Speckles!" Tony yelled in the darkness._

_Suddenly, the mares screams are cut off as the last beams of the stable cave in._

_Tony stands there in shock. He feels his father's arms around him, and Tony leans into his hug, clutching his chest, sobbing._

"_She's gone. It's all gone, Father." Tony sobbed into his father's hug. _

_His father held him tighter, and Tony heard him choking back sobs of his own._

_The man in black's cruel laugh echoed through the hills, a shrill, sharp noise that would haunt him forever on. It seemed to get louder and louder and louder…_

* * *

Tony wakes in a cold sweat. He is still sitting in the armchair. He pants, and wipes his wet forehead. He jumps up, the realization pulsing like an angry drug through his veins, renewing his strength. He knows what he needs to do.

The man in black.

He had to get the man in black.

* * *

**Well? So sorry this hasn't been updated in goddamn forever!**

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**Love you all!**

**-Vi**


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